


Wishes (Don't) Come True

by Moon_Raccoon_exe



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff then angst, M/M, Post-Game, Sad and discouraging stuff, additional warnings:, endgame spoilers, negativity, of sorts, pessimism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 10:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13996635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Raccoon_exe/pseuds/Moon_Raccoon_exe
Summary: The prince and his royal retinue arrive to Altissia, and get some free days to explore it.They come across Listro Park, a Leviathan fountain, and a man selling paper birds that can make wishes come true.This is where and how Gladio once made a wish.





	Wishes (Don't) Come True

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr.
> 
> You can find me as Moonraccoon-exe
> 
> Enjoy!!

Gladio once made a wish.

He had learned since young about the difference between a dream and a goal, and he had always aimed for goals; a dream was only a fantasy, and if one was not careful it could rub on becoming an utopy. It was great as motivation only, but it was not a goal as itself. A goal was more firm, more tangible, more accessible. A dream was a way of having the head in the clouds and never move, and a goal was to have the feet on the ground and walk by himself; something pretty in the skies versus something he could get by himself through effort and hard-work.

But what was a _wish?_ Was it something in between a dream and a goal? A fantasy that was accessible? Maybe a wish was what made both a dream and a goal work as one; the dream, to keep the spirit alive; the wish, to realize it can be possible, and hence, it can turn into a goal.

With that philosophy Gladio made a first conscious wish.

He had asked for wishes before; when he was a child he would ask wishes to stars and to some flowers, but as he grew older wishes grew less serious. Or, at least, more like a curse than a proper wish. ‘Gods, I wish this could happen’, a lament, not a proper wish. ‘I wish this was true’, a way of speaking, not a proper wish.

So, in some way, that one was his first honest wish that he made with full consciousness of his own philosophy behind a wish.

It was in Altissia where he made his wish.

In Altissia, after what had been the roughest and saddest months of his life after the events of Insomnia’s Fall and the journey, he made his wish.

They still had a couple days before the first secretary would call them for negotiations; hence, a couple days to pretend nothing bad had happened or was going on, and to enjoy Altissia like these were vacations, like they were normal people, only tourists. The perfect chance to relieve stress, to go around having fun, discover places, enjoy of the most beautiful City on the Sea. They had gone through a great part of it, had watched Noctis fish, had tasted the most wonderful wine in the world, and he had even had the chance to enjoy of incredibly romantic dates with his love.

The day that Gladio made his wish, they reached a part of the city where they had not been before. Listro Park, it was called. Ignis had been unable to look away from the landscape before them during the gondola ride, and Gladio had been unable to stop looking at him. Gods, how much he would give to see Ignis like that everyday for the rest of his life, he thought. Ignis had been stressed and sad during many times along the journey, too. Watching him curious, happy, calm, it was a delight. He had almost forgotten how beautiful his eyes gleamed in the morning light when they were happy and peaceful.

When they arrived, the first thing to call the attention was a big metal statue that worked as fountain as well. The four of them stopped to look at it and admire it some moments. Prompto and Noctis got distracted first, and Gladio was dragged to the ice-cream stall by Ignis’ hand. By the time the two headed towards Noctis and Prompto to ask them if they wanted a cone, seeing they were distracted in another stall and were not listening to them, they arrived in time to hear as Prompto landed the question that Noctis had surely been trying to ask for the past minute with no success.

“Eh? What are these?” the young blond asked. Gladio looked at what had called his attention; resting on the shelves on the stall, there were paper birds. His first thought was that they were origami souvenirs.

“Paper birds for wishes” the man of the stall explained. Gladio blinked with curiosity, as did the rest of the group, each their own way. The man, catching these were tourists, smiled and answered the wordless question. “You see that statue? It represents Leviathan, a Six, a goddess. It’s a tradition of this park; you take one of these paper birds, write your wish on it, and you throw it at the statue. If it flies into Leviathan’s mouth, your wish will come true!”

The only one that showed immediate interest, if trying to conceal it, was Noctis. He blinked and his huge blue eyes gleamed with that intense curiosity so characteristic of him. Too shy to act, he waited there until Prompto (the gods bless Prompto) asked him if he wanted to try, giving him an excuse to say ‘Sure, why not’. Noctis wrote his wish, threw the paper bird, celebrated when it landed into the mouth of the statue, and his three friends stayed there to celebrate it as well. Ignis asked the pair of younger friends about the ice-cream, and the subject about the paper birds and wishes stayed behind. Except for Gladio; he too was trying to focus on the ice-cream, but a little stick was poking him in the brain, reminding him about it, insisting, pulling him with a force that was bigger than his will.

It was after some more walking around, after the ice-creams were all in their stomachs, even after they had visited the Arena to participate in the Totomostro and had left with two or so more coins than they first had. They used the same gondola ride to go back from the arena to Listro Park. It was almost like a small epiphany; when he saw Leviathan’s statue again, he had the mighty need to do it. Not every day could one visit Altissia, especially with a war going on, especially being the prince’s Shield.

Noctis and Prompto saw something and ran, but before Ignis could run after them, he felt Gladio was not following and stayed behind with him.

“Gladio?” he called when he turned, and found the Shield going to the other side. Ignis calmly followed him and saw him stop at the stall with the paper birds.

“Excuse me” he heard Gladio call politely. “How much does one of these cost?”

“Oh, no, young man; they’re free.”

“I see. Well, would you still accept a few coins?” before the man offered more than a little breath, Gladio continued. “I think it’s amazing, that you spend here all day to offer the birds for people to make a wish. That’s very kind; please, accept these.”

Ignis, standing with a prudent distance, smiled warmly. This was not uncommon in Gladio, but it never truly stopped reminding Ignis of how kind his boyfriend was as a person. Always noticing people’s hard work, mostly in the ones that went the most unnoticed. It still took a little more of dialogue before the man accepted Gladio’s coins. He offered the Shield to choose any bird that he wanted. Gladio dedicated quite a good while just looking at them and choosing. Ignis laughed very lowly and approached him.

“Gladio, dear?” Ignis called, and saw Gladio take one of the birds. Gladio had a small conversation with the man again about having chosen a bird before Ignis spoke again. “You’re making a wish, too?”

By any answer, Gladio smiled at him as he started walking to a better spot from where he could throw the paper bird. Ignis tried following him, but Gladio kept moving from a spot to the other, licking his finger and using it to test the direction of the wind, and doing other unnecessary measures. It did but earn another happy if low laugh from the adviser.

“Gladio” he insisted.

“Chst, you can’t come close, Iggy, not while I’m writing my wish” Gladio said after he had apparently chosen the perfect spot, looking into a pocket for a pen. As if answering Ignis’ non-formulated question, Gladio added; “It’s not going to come true if someone else knows what I’m wishing for.”

“I didn’t hear that part” Ignis said with a slight raise of an eyebrow, but all that Gladio did was to put a finger up as if both requesting silence from him and telling him ‘right, but that’s _my_ philosophy so you can’t fight it’.

The adviser stood there, smiling, watching his boyfriend scribble something on the paper bird. It was cute, and heartwarming, to watch Gladiolus like that; it was like he was nine years old again, making strange rituals that involved standing in “the correct spot” too. It was Gladio before the weight of his title fell heavy on him; Gladio the child, the innocence itself, Gladio being just a young person enjoying life and doing “silly” things that were much more beautiful than what the eye could meet. Gladio enjoying of the common things he was denied from due to his last name.

After scribbling his wish, Gladio put his pen back in the pocket and he smiled at the bird. It was like he was looking at a very dear friend. Ignis almost felt bad for a second while staring; noticing how much this was meaning to Gladio felt too intimate, and he was invading it. He saw him even kiss the paper bird, focused, like he looked only when kissing Ignis’ cheek or hand. Then, he looked up at the metal Leviathan in front of him, smiling, always smiling. He raised the arm, aimed, moved the wrist forth and back, closed an eye, opened it and closed the other, opened both, continued swinging the hand, and, after the wait that had felt eternal, after Gladio had built tension enough, he pulled the arm back and, when he threw it ahead, he let go of the paper bird.

Ignis watched, attentive, and followed its route. It was short and quick. The paper bird followed an uneven line, up and ahead.

And it entered right through Leviathan’s mouth.

“Yes!” he heard Gladio loudly cheer, and saw him fist pump, turn over himself, dance a little over his heels, and clap once. He looked ecstatic, like after a particularly hard battle. The face of pride and victory themselves. Ignis could not help the huge excitement ever since he first saw the paper bird land so perfectly where it had to, and seeing Gladio celebrate it only made him even more joyful; it was like they had just won something.

“You made it!” Ignis celebrated with him, going closer to him. Gladio went over to him, with a look in the face as if he knew something Ignis didn’t, and, instead of just receiving him in arms, Gladio himself caught him; Ignis gasped slightly in surprise when Gladio half-tackled him, and instead of hugging him by the waist or the neck, he wrapped the arms around Ignis’ hips and pulled him up from the floor. He spun him around gently only two times while Ignis laughed before putting him down.

After a couple more laughters, Gladio did hug him closer and pulled him into a kiss. Ignis did not complain; he gently hugged him by the neck and kissed back, smiling into it. He felt Gladio focus into it, serious, and for some reason it touched in his heart; made him smile a bit more while not interrupting their kissing, and caressed his hair a little. When they broke from the kiss, Ignis kept the forearms on his boyfriend’s shoulders, resting a wrist on top of the other behind Gladio’s neck.

“I will assume I also can’t ask you what you wrote there, can I?” Ignis asked him lowly, with a playful smirk. Gladio smirked back and shook the head with a ‘No, darling’. Ignis’ smile widened a little, still playful. “Give me a clue, at least?”

This time, Gladio took a moment and looked away, eyes going up as if considering it. Ignis waited patiently.

“It’s something that’s going to make me very, very happy” Gladio told him, staring at him with a loving gaze. Ignis’ eyes traveled across his face, analyzing, and he started smiling.

“A selfish wish, then” Ignis teased, caressing Gladio’s hair, smiling playfully at him.

“Oh, the most selfish wish” Gladio nodded, keeping Ignis’ waist hugged and the man pressed to himself. “It’s the only one thing that will make my life complete.”

“Is it?” Ignis asked with a side smile, still in that playful voice, keeping the upper part of the body bent back enough so he could keep a non-awkward eye contact with Gladio. The Shield nodded at his question with a low ‘Uh huh’.

By response, Ignis’ smile grew until it turned into a grin, and it grew again until he chuckled and leaned close to kiss his boyfriend on the mouth. Gladio kissed back, adoring the taste of his lips, and gently swinging Iggy from side to side, subtly.

 

They still had that night free, as the first secretary did not phone Noctis nor did she send any messenger to come collect them. So Gladio and Ignis, of course, took it to their favor and enjoyed of it as they pleased.

 

They had dinner on a balcony from where they had a beautiful sight of the distance of Altissia, by candlelight, with wine from Accordo, silly playful conversations, and what Noctis would call a “disgusting lovey-dovey talk”. They walked together, pointed and looked at things, got yet another ice-cream to share, this time in the night of Altissia. They stopped at a precious spot to spend about an hour in silence only looking at the stars; Ignis, particularly, was moved at the sight and did not take the eyes off it for one second. They rode gondolas just for the pleasure of it, holding hands, whispering promises of love; ran and poked each other for the fun of it; laughed and had fun like children, only for the sake of it. They walked together either in silence where the glances spoke better than words, or in delightful conversation.

They danced. They did not have money nor the desire to go into a proper club, whether a modern or a traditional one, but that did not stop them from dancing. It was on the Altissian streets, on a park similar to Listro, except without the fountain to be an obstacle. With distant music from the inside of a restaurant far from them, both bowed to each other, held hands, grabbed a shoulder or a waist, and danced. At first it was the formal waltzing they taught them back in the Citadel; it quickly transformed into a quicker and less formal waltzing. There were laughs here and there; a silent and silly competition to see who danced better. Ignis, smaller than Gladio, had the role of turning fully over his heels every here and there, only to return to the Shield’s arms, feet moving backwards and to the sides, in perfect synchronicity with those forwards of Gladiolus’.

With laughter from a playful and non-important conversation, there was a last turn, and when Ignis returned to his arms, he leaned closer to hug him properly, the head resting on a shoulder, the hands wrapping around him. Their feet still very shyly moved, until the crazy waltzing turned into an intimate one in a tiny invisible square, where the two stayed hugged, embraced, holding each other dear and close. There were no needed words, and no wanted ones that could break the atmosphere so fully loaded of love and adoration. Finishing with a hand kiss and another pair of bows, both continued their date across the beautiful City on the Sea, until, too late perhaps, they returned to the hotel.

Like it was a wedding night, Gladio picked Ignis in his arms (without previous warning or permission, but gladly without any complaints as well) midstairs and calmly walked like that the rest of the way to the separate room from their companions’, with an incredibly happy and silent Ignis hugged to his neck, nuzzling very subtly at his chin, and smiling. Smiling carefree, lighthearted, in absolute and sincere happiness. Both heavily drunk on the joy of such a beautiful night together, both drunk on love, peace, happiness, all the three real like it had not felt in months.

As he closed the door behind himself, with a smiling Ignis whispering in his ear, Gladio thought, for a moment, that his wish had already come true.

He spent two beautiful, ignorant days believing it.

And then the first secretary summoned them.

 

Eleven years later, Gladio sat at his desk, unable to focus in anything. He had been so busy in his head and had found himself without the energy or desire to do anything else that he spent the day trying to figure out how to build a paper bird on his own. It was already sunset when he figured it out.

He only looked away from the bird to stare at the sunset.

_Goodnight, little brother. See you tomorrow._

While the sun was starting to shyly hide, Gladio heard the noises of a car outside, a small conversation, the routine and so well known and dear sounds he already knew. But, this time, he did not get excited. He would usually joyfully go say hello at the door even before Ignis had opened it, receive him in arms in a tight hug that would make the former adviser both complain and laugh, would wave good day and say thanks to the butler for having brought Ignis from work, would receive him and talk with him. This time, he stayed sat at his desk, the paper bird in a hand.

Ignis arrived to greet him; Gladio welcomed him. Ignis did sense the strange air and asked him if everything was alright; Gladio said yes. They spent a while together, Ignis sat on the bed, relaxing, and so, like usual, Gladio asked him how his day had been and Ignis told him while Gladio received the excess of clothes from Ignis and left them in the closet; shoes, jacket, tie, gloves. Gladio offered very little in response to his own day, and insisted Ignis told him more about his own. At some point, as if planned by the gods or coincidence, Ignis talked about having met someone who did origami as therapy for their anxiety, and how, among the little paper works he had been shown (or handed over so he could feel with the hands), they had a paper bird.

“I remembered about the time you made a wish in Altissia, all those years ago” Ignis told him and stood up from the bed to go closer to Gladio, who stood nearby. All that Gladio could offer was a weak attempt of a sad smile, while Ignis there looked genuinely content, even if with a hint of sadness that had nothing to do with the current situation. Almost by reflex, Gladio gently received him when Ignis softly rested the forearms on his shoulders, looking up at him with a blind and a scarred eye, smiling. “Remember?”

“Yeah…” Gladio replied in a murmur, unsure if Ignis could feel the negative air that had been on Gladio’s shoulders since that morning, and hence why Ignis was trying to subtly find out what it was. Or maybe it was absolutely entire coincidence.

Ignis stayed quiet some moments.

“Did it come true?” he asked lowly and, while he was still smiling softly, there was a hint of caution in what he asked, like he knew it could or not be a fragile thread.

Silence fell on them like water filling a pool. It was some sort of ethereal moment, though not beautiful.

Ignis knew Gladio, and he knew that his “selfish” wish had not been selfish. Gladio had yet not wanted to tell him what he wrote on the bird and, after the events of the past ten years, Ignis had not dared to ask yet, but he had built an idea ever since he first was kissing Gladio right in front of the Leviathan fountain, only a minute after he had thrown the paper bird, all those eleven years ago.

Gladio was a hopeless romantic. Knowing him and trying to think like him, Ignis had imagined some of the options of what Gladio could have wished for.

_‘I wish to marry Ignis one day’._

It was very probable, highly probable, with how much of a desperately hopeless romantic Gladiolus was. He had always wished to find his one person, the love of his life, and he had already talked with Ignis about the possibility of marriage ‘one day’, at first jokingly, but Ignis knew how to read among joke and joke to find the seriousness behind it. He did say it was something that would make him very happy, so, knowing how disgustingly romantic he was, it was highly probable he had wished for this.

And they were married. Had married a year ago now. If that had been his wish then, despite everything else, it had come true.

_‘I want to stay with Ignis for the rest of my life’._

It was highly probable as well, knowing how well Gladio knew how to use words, and knowing very well that Gladio was very aware that marriage was not equivalent to ‘the rest of their lives’. They could go on without having ever married, but still together. Or they could have even broken up, but still have each other in their lives. And that sounded even more probable from Gladio, with how sincerely he loved; to wish to always keep a bond, even if it was not the way he would prefer.

And they were together. They had spent all this time together, married or not, and Ignis had no intentions to leave anytime. 

_‘I want Ignis and I to have a peaceful life’._

And they did. The events of the prophecy were all done, and nothing had gotten in the way. They shared a house; their shared simpler jobs; they had comfort, health, they were a family. They had each other. No need to stress over anything, no more duties. Even their last names had lost the weight that they carried.

So, in a pretty hard way, through a very rough life, with terrible implications, but at least _now_ they had peaceful, quiet lives.

There were a couple more possibilities, but those there were what sounded more Gladio-like, in Ignis’ opinion. Something cheesy and romantic that involved the two of them, he knew from the way Gladio had looked at him after having made his wish, by the way he hugged and kissed him, which absolutely said it was something Ignis-related. Something related to Ignis, that would make Gladio very happy…the man must have requested for marriage or for another form of saying he wanted to be with Ignis all his life and beyond. And it had happened. It _was_ happening.

All that Ignis wanted was for him to say it aloud. He wanted Gladio to notice that, despite the harsh youth they had, his wish had come true.

Except Gladio did not wish for any of those things.

“Did it come true?”, the wish, Ignis meant when he asked. It still echoed in Gladio’s head; he had needed Ignis to ask him only once.

He stayed very quiet, watching him, smiling, but no hint of joy in it. He looked at Ignis and the smile on his face. He looked at Ignis, and saw a twenty two year old smiling at him after he had made his wish. He saw the content smile of a boyfriend while having dinner in an Altissian balcony; saw the laughing face of a young adult who waltzed with him on a public square very late at night; he saw the loving face of a man that whispered blissful ‘I love you’s as they made love slowly.

He saw a bridge and an aircraft; heard Ignis’ terror as he made his way alone through the city in ruins. He saw Ignis barely alive, barely conscious, badly hurt, burnt in the hand, across the arm, on the face. Saw an agonizing Ignis in his arms. Ignis waking up to a scarred eye and lost sight. Ignis waking up to cry on him with a desperation Gladio could not imagine possible in a person, saying something about visions and agonizingly murmuring Noctis’ name over and over, and asking ‘Why? Oh gods, why?’ endlessly.

Ignis crying every night, always for a reason he had not wanted to tell him the first months. Ignis stumbling, falling, walking slowly, insecure, scared, unsure. Ignis with the head always down. Ignis standing a quarrel among the group, having to push senses back into them. Ignis unable to see the sky, unable to see Tenebrae, unable to drive, to cook, barely able to do anything on his own. Ignis trying to hide his terror across Gralea, into Zegnautus. Ignis’ silent desperation when Noctis was lost. Ignis falling down and having the heart breaking so painfully inside him he literally passed out (again for the “visions” and whatever he knew that the rest did not). 

Ignis frustrated trying to re-learn the world, literally blind. Ignis burning himself by accident trying to cook; Ignis almost killing himself trying to re-learn how to fight. Ignis struggling hard, pushing himself past the limits, just to be “useful again”. Ignis having nightmares of all kinds; Ignis having nightmares so constantly that the uncommon thing was that he _dreamed_. All the nights he woke up screaming, or crying, or sweating, or everything at the same time. Gladio holding him throughout the panic or the tears or both for hours. Ignis crying to him about Altissia; about Insomnia; about Gralea; about Noctis.

Ignis sharing with him the burden of what he knew about what was to come. Ignis’ nightmares lasting ten, eleven years. Ignis blind. Ignis never recovering his sight.

Ignis breaking in pieces when he felt dawn for the first time in a decade. Ignis crying to unconsciousness in front of the throne, and again in front of the altar, and again at the funeral, and again, and again, and again for days and weeks. Ignis holding Noctis’ corpse; his little brother’s corpse. Ignis desperately pleading him to wake up, to come back, to open the eyes, Ignis pleading to the gods to take him instead and bring his little brother back; not letting anyone get close, cursing the gods, screaming his lungs out. Ignis put through the most awful, most terrible of tortures, hugged to the corpse of someone that occupied the core of his heart.

Ignis crying. So frequently, so constantly.

Ignis dying, alive.

The void in his heart. Gladio could see _the void in his heart._

Ignis’ smile while he asked Gladio if his wish had come true, his smile while he waited for an answer. He looked content; he _was_ content. But no matter how content or relaxed he could be, no matter how happy he could be, there was and would forever be a void in his heart.

His eyes were blind and misty, but even like that they had a huge gleam of sadness. No matter how joyfully he looked at Gladio, he still had that sparkle of sorrow.

He could see Ignis, so young, in his early thirties, already growing grey hair on the sides of the head. Aging so fast, aging _too fast_. He looked young and had almost no wrinkles, but something about his face, maybe his aura, it made him look and feel haggard. So wasted, so mistreated, so… _exhausted._ All the time. His body, more fragile than it used to be, having resisted too much for a lifetime in only thirty two years, and hence quickly weakening. The still frequent nightmares.

And that terrible sparkle of sorrow in his blind eyes that reminded him that he could give the entire world to Ignis, and he would be happy, but never _truly, completely_ happy, because there would _always_ and forever be a void in his heart that nothing and no one could fix or fill.

The only thing he wanted, and he was doomed to a lifetime witnessing how impossible and utopic it was now.

Gladio smiled with sadness, swallowed when he felt the huge knot that formed in his throat while he had been busy in the fleeting thoughts. His eyes, full of tears, looking at Ignis through the blur, and he felt something asphyxiating him. After some seconds of having asked, Ignis was still smiling at him, patiently waiting for Gladio to tell him whether his wish had come true or not.

Gladio smiled back, widely, even though his eyebrows remained furrowed and his eyes stayed full of tears. The former Shield moved a hand up and, tremblingly, a bit unsure, like when he was seventeen and first touched Ignis’ face, or like the day after the Leviathan events, Gladio’s fingers fearfully touched his face, shaking slightly, like Ignis’ skin would shatter at the touch. He laid fingertips on Ignis’ scar of the left eye. Ignis’ smile faded. He waited, quiet.

After staring at and touching the scar, Gladio moved the hand up and used it to caress Ignis’ hair like passing an invisible lock of it behind his ear, and cupped his face with a hand.

Gladio smiled widely at him, and tears rolled down his face.

He saw Ignis’ worried face. That horrible gleam in his eyes that had direct connection with the void in his heart.

He saw the Leviathan statue destroyed after Leviathan’s wrath.

Saw the bunch of papers scattered across the ground.

Found his own among them.

The words were still legible.

He caressed Ignis’ face with a thumb like it was the former adviser who was crying.

He saw his wish once more in that paper bird that he ended up destroying and throwing into the ocean.

_Did it come true?_

Gladio’s smile widened again and he cupped Ignis’ face with both hands this time. Ignis still gave him that worried but patient look.

And so, Gladio answered after a long pause full of memories.

“No” he whispered. “It didn’t.”

Gladio had kept the wet paper with himself, but he ended up destroying it and throwing it to the ocean when he understood the gods’ sense of humor. When he realized that wishes were just an invention for children. Only a psychological support, not a real thing. When reality smacked him hard on the face, and he realized that wishes were silly, idiotic, a pathetic attempt of trying to keep hopes up, but the real world is different, and it’s not as simple as wishing. That the gods have no heart.

He understood, while breaking the paper bird, that no matter how much heart and sincerity one puts in wishes, they’re useless and a huge lie. He learned that the tales of books were wrong, and that wishes and a strong will are not all that’s needed in life. That wishing changes _nothing_. Wishing makes _nothing_ better; wishing gets _nothing._

He understood that in the best cases, wishes never came true. And that was good enough, as nothing happened. Unlike his case, where instead of nothing happening, the exact opposite to what he wished had happened.

He understood that the only thing wishes are for is to lift the hopes, get the spirit in the skies, and then watch the gods throw them back down, because the higher the hopes are, the harder they will crash into the ground.

Wishes were worse than lies; they were ways to entertain the sadistic, ironic creatures they called Gods. Let them see what you want, and give them permission to give you the entire opposite.

You have to be careful what you wish for, Gladio knew. But he had no idea that his wish would cause _this._ How would he know? He asked, precisely, for the opposite of all this. With precise words. There was no way to misunderstand or twist his wish. Why did the gods play with it, anyway?

It was unfair.

He had wanted only _one_ thing.

But he learned that wishes _don’t come true._

Ignis did not question him. It did take him off-guard that Gladio’s answer had been no. But he did not ask what Gladio’s wish had been; he would later ask, to see if maybe he could do something about it, help him reach it. It was never late to get a wish, and he wanted Gladio to be happy. But he would ask him later.

In those moments, all that Ignis did was to get closer and rested the head on his shoulder, wrapping the arms around him. Gladio hugged him back, buried the face in Ignis’ hair, and let himself cry.

He wanted to ask sorry. He felt that if he had never asked for that wish, Ignis would have never been this _miserable_ in life.

He could not tell Ignis what his wish had been, because then Ignis would probably start lying or pretending and he wouldn’t be honest with himself just for the sake of making Gladiolus happy.

So he kept what he wrote on the paper bird to himself.

His selfish wish.

The only one thing that would make his life complete.

The wish that could not come true, no matter how hard he tried.

 

_“I want Ignis to be happy.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are incredibly helpful and very much welcome! Let me know what you think, please! :)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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